Black Poetry : tribes at war

The era of martin and Malcolm have ended,
our hope has descended,
the black power has faded
thus were still waiting,
for our piece of the pie,
long been denied,
to survive one must cheat, steal and lie.

Street factions,
tribe wars,
dispute met with the sword,
or spear,
both bring tears,
evoke blood and fear,
what’s gwanin in the motherland
ain’t too different from here.
Human greed sews the seed,
for the fields must bleed,
the cash cow ever gluttonous,
it must always feed.

But don’t misunderstand,
doesn't matter which land,
brother kills brother
at behest of uncle Sam.
but I won't comply
with tyrannical plan,
I get but one life,
I shall be my own man.
I’ll never run,
never ran from a Nazi or the klan,
so I’ll never turn my back on my fellow black man.

But my people are so hungry
we attack without reason,
see an ad,
give a dollar
and you think you feed them?
Conditions like these,
cannot persist,
cheeks spread open,
waiting for dick.

We are black,
we are proud,
we must stand,
we must fight,
our wrath must be known,
not kept from sight.

The well has run dry,
hasn’t rained for some time,
our will ignored,
dreams cast aside.
We seek reinstallment of the revolution,
we are dying at the cost of our own pollution.
Brought no solutions,
to these truth contusions,
from all this follows hopeless delusion.

Crime won't decrease,
until poverty ceased,
no need for more prisons
or more police.
Inequity brings disdain,
followed inflammation
though planning must follow,
or see flame engulf nation.

So when they knock on your front door,
how you going to come?
with hands behind head
or on trigger of gun?

When they kick down your front door,
how you going to go?
shot down on the pavement,
or waiting in death row?

They’ll crush us,
they’ll bruise us,
they care not how we feel,
but none are invincible,
they shall answer to black steel.